


i taste every wasted minute

by nosecoffee



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy
Genre: Angst, Elopements, F/M, Great Comet AU, Infidelity, Letters, Lots of Angst, M/M, Multi, engagements, referenced attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8375947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nosecoffee/pseuds/nosecoffee
Summary: The man was slouching in his seat, his hair out and magenta suit jacket glinting in the candle light.James didn't realise he was staring until the man met his eyes, and smirked.James looked away and pretended to search for his opera glasses.A Great Comet AU





	

**Author's Note:**

> Oops.
> 
> Title from 'Dust and Ashes', from The Great Comet.

_ My cousin and I are so pleased to be with you, while we wait on our fiancé's, fighting in the war. _

Alexander stepped out of the troika, shivering from the cold. Snow crunched under his boot.

James stepped out beside him, shivering harder than him.

The troika driver unloaded their bags and Alexander paid him, watching him turn and gallop out of the drive, making tracks in the snow.

"Come, Alex." James touched his arm, making Alexander turn from the view of the gate. "It's much too cold to be dawdling out here."

"Alex!" Hercules stepped out from the doorway of his house and smiled widely. "Goodness, it's snowing hard."

James nodded at Hercules politely, "Mr Mulligan."

Hercules nodded back, taking Alexander's bag. "Mr Madison, what a lovely surprise."

"I'm here as a chaperone for Alex," James clarified, picking his own bag up from the snow. "But I'm mostly here to see Moscow."

"I see." Hercules murmured, giving them both once-overs before ushering them both into the house. "I can't blame you; it's a beautiful city. Filled with faded and fading people, I may add."

James nodded, not really listening.

It wasn't his job here to listen.

~

James was methodical as he put his clothes into his chest of drawers in the room Hercules had provided.

Alexander's godfather ran a very popular tailor shop in town, and was out at the present moment.

Alexander was also in town, visiting Aaron's sister, Sally, who liked him quite a lot.

James snorted, shutting his suitcase and putting in under the bed. Everyone always liked Alex. They couldn't help but like him.

A maid knocked on the door and gave him a letter.

It was addressed to Alex, written in Aaron's hand. Alex would be overjoyed, he was much too anxious with Aaron off at war.

He couldn't blame the maid for getting them mixed up. He'd just give it to Alex when he returned from tea.

~

James ushered Alex into the theatre - the other boy was enthralled for some reason. James had never really liked operas, getting bored or distracted.

But Alex had persuaded him after Hercules suggested it.

Alex gazed around the interior of the theatre, being greeted by strangers wearing their most handsome ensembles.

Alex and James didn't know any of them.

Hercules knew all of them, and told them so as he led them up to the nosebleeds.

"We got our own booth." He explained as an usher pulled the curtain away for them to enter.

"Oh the stage is just lovely!" Alex exclaimed, gazing happily at the intricate auditorium.

James sat down, pulling off his gloves, and undoing his coat.

"If you look straight ahead, boys, you'll see the Jefferson's - some of the richest people in Moscow - apart from Sally Burr, that is."

James glanced and caught sight of two very tall men in luminescent coats, taking a seat in the nosebleed opposite them.

One of them had his hair tied back in a bun with a ribbon the same shade of blue as his coat.

The other was slouching in his seat, his hair out and magenta suit jacket glinting in the candle light.

James didn't realise he was staring until the man met his eyes, and smirked.

James looked away and pretended to search for his opera glasses.

~

James had been bored and perhaps drifting off for almost half an hour before the curtains closed for intermission.

"Would you two like some drinks?" Hercules asked, setting his opera glasses down on his seat as he rose to his feet.

"I would. I'll come with you." Alex jumped to his feet and followed his godfather out of the booth.

James sighed, slumping in his seat so that he could no longer see the stage. The roof was painted with clouds and cherubs and blue sky.

He tapped his opera glasses on his thigh, wondering how soon they'd be back.

Someone knocked on the wall of the booth.

James turned quickly, sitting up, and felt blood rush to his cheeks as the sight of the stranger from the opposite nosebleed.

His suit was still just a cutting and elegant up close, though the magenta colour hurt his eyes.

"Good evening," said the stranger. "My name is Thomas Jefferson. You must be James Madison."

James balked. "Pardon me, sir, but how do you know my name?"

Thomas chuckled, leaning on the wall. "You and your friend are the talk of the town. News travels fast in Moscow, I think you'll find."

"I see," James agreed, rising from his seat. "Thank you for notifying me; it is greatly appreciated. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must find my cousin-"

James took a step towards the door and Thomas stood up straight, blocking James from the exit.

"Excuse me," James repeated, trying not to sound rude.

"I see now that my intentions were not as clear as I'd hoped." Thomas said, almost to himself. "You see, though our meeting has been brief, I find you rather endearing."

"That's awfully kind of you," James told him, staring at his chin - it was neither his suit nor his eyes, and both were painful to look at. "But I am already betrothed."

Thomas sighed deeply, clearly disappointed, but still smiled at James. "Pardon me. I was uninformed."

"Lovely to meet you, Mr Jefferson."

Thomas left as Hercules and Alex reentered with glasses of wine.

"Who was that?" Alex asked, passing James a glass.

"Thomas Jefferson," James replied, and ignored Hercules's stare. "He came by to say something about a costume tournament."

They settled into their seats as the curtains reopened, and James kept his eyes on the stage the entire act.

He could feel Thomas's gaze burning into his neck.

He wanted to say he hated it.

But he smiled to himself, wondering how, at a look, he'd caught someone's eye.

~

Dolley still hadn't written. That was alright.

James told himself that, anyway, lying on his side and watching snow drift past the window in the light of the moon.

Dolley loved him.

She'd made him a promise, that she'd return to him, that she'd marry him.

But after everything that happened at the opera - after everything that  _ hadn't  _ happened at the opera - James was suddenly unsure.

He watched the snowflakes, breathing deeply.

James wondered if he should perhaps mention it to Alex.

But he knew that was not a good idea. Alex was very proper with his ways.

If James said something about his feelings for someone who wasn't Dolley, who knew how Alex would react.

No, he decided, pulling the sheets up to his chest. He'd keep it to himself.

After all, nothing had happened.

~

Hercules and Alex were at church. Alex had gotten another letter from Aaron, and he'd immediately set to writing his own.

Hercules urged him to come to church with him after the fourth draft was eaten by the fire.

James startled from his book as a maid knocked on the drawing room door. "Visitor for you, sir."

James closed his book, placing it on his seat as he stood.

"Mr Jefferson," the maid announced and closed the door after a tall man in a handsome blue coat.

James calmed, recognising him as Thomas's brother, rather than Thomas himself.

"Mr Madison," the man bowed.

"You must call me James," he replied, bowing, "Mr Jefferson."

The man laughed. "Then I insist that you call me Lafayette."

"Alright," James agreed. Thomas and his brother appeared to be polar opposites if he was simply judging on first impressions. "Lafayette, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Lafayette's grin spread across his face, a pleasant glint in his eyes. "I see you skip the pleasantries, James. No matter; my brother appears to have much reason to like you."

"Pardon me?" They both seemed to have the same filter; or rather the lack of one.

"Was I not clear?" Lafayette asked, looking perhaps a little apprehensive. Maybe it was an act. But James wanted to trust him. "You met my brother the other night, at the opera, did you not?"

"I did. He was quite straightforward with his intentions towards me." James replied.

"He often is," Lafayette chuckled, leaning against the desk. "Thomas likes to get what he wants. And in this instance, he wants you."

"And I informed him that I was betrothed."

Lafayette nodded. "He told me. Nevertheless, Thomas is not the driving force behind my visit."

James cocked his head, curious. "Then what is?"

"I'm hosting a ball, and I would like you to attend."

Again with the straightforwardness.

"My cousin quite enjoys balls. Is the invitation extended to him as well?"

Lafayette grimaced. The answer was clear in his expression. "It may not be appropriate for your cousin to attend. The poor creature may be overwhelmed."

"Then I am afraid you will not be seeing me at your ball." James snipped. Lafayette sighed.

"A shame; Thomas was hoping quite madly that you'd come." Lafayette's grin was sly now. His comment piqued James's interest, nonetheless.

"Thomas wants me there?" He inquired.

Lafayette laughed. "All of Moscow wants you there, my dear! You're the talk of the town. You're handsome, charming, modest, not to mention your betrothal."

James frowned. "What does my engagement have to do with this?"

Lafayette shrugged, smiling lazily. "People often want what they can't have, my friend. Your engagement makes you desirable in the eyes of the public."

James huffed, "The public is deluded."

Lafayette picked up a stack of letters and flipped through them, absentmindedly. "As are you, it seems."

"Excuse me?"

Lafayette held up the letters, all Alex's. "You seem to think that your fiancé has forgotten about you."

James felt blood rush to his cheeks. "How could you possibly think-?"

"If she hasn't, then why don't you have any letters from her?"

James swallowed. It was true; Dolley hadn't written him for weeks. "Maybe I'm a private person and I don't leave my letters out in the open."

"We both know that is not true, my friend." Lafayette replied testily.

"What does it matter?" The fight drained from James and he took a seat on one of the ottomans.

"You're lonely. Come to the ball, socialise, talk some sense into my brother."

"Why should I?" James inquired. Lafayette looked somewhat bored.

"He spent all of dinner last night sighing about you. He did not eat. It seems he is quite madly in love with you."

"And you think my attendance to the ball will help my case in talking him down?" Lafayette smirked as if James had only just caught up.

"I do." Lafayette said simply.

James sighed. "Expect me there, then."

The other man's grin spread across his face once again.

He bowed and left James to his thoughts.

~

God, he was lost. How could he let him?

~

Thomas was there the moment he walked in the door.

And at once, James could see why Lafayette would refuse to invite Alex.

It was unlike any party that James had ever been to, women laughing, scantily clad in revealing dresses, men kissing their lips and their necks and dragging them to secluded walls.

It was like he'd stepped into a completely different world.

Thomas took his arm, leading him further into the room. "I'm so glad you came," Thomas told him, his face sincere.

"This is a ball?" James replied, not really having heard Thomas's words.

"Indeed. Lafayette's tastes are not quite as refined as mine. But, I can't deny that it always makes for a good time." Thomas agreed, nonplussed at James's lack of attention. "Do you like it?"

"It's..." James finally looked up at Thomas. He was grinning. "Mesmerising."

James let Thomas lead him out onto the floor and danced with him. Thomas didn't say a word.

A new song started, slower than the last.

James cleared his throat, as if to bring himself to Thomas's attention. Thomas hadn't taken his eyes off James.

"Thomas," he began, determined to say what he came to say. "You have to understand-"

He sighed, just loud enough to cut James off. "Lafayette said you'd try to talk me down. But you cannot. It is too late. I am irreversibly in love with you."

"How can you love me while hardly knowing me?" James asked.

"It is what I see in your soul that makes me love you." Thomas replied. "True, you are lovely a'face, but it is who you are that has enthralled me."

It didn't make sense. "What?"

"I've met you but once, James," Thomas told him. "And your devotion to both you cousin and your fiancé-" the word was said with distaste "-was intriguing. I asked around about you, and I found that I fell for you."

"You cannot possibly-"

"And yet, each moment that I stare into your eyes proves how enamoured I am by you."

James scowled. "Pretty words cannot win me."

Thomas nodded. "I don't expect them to."

"Nor a pretty face."

James rolled his eyes at Thomas's grin. "You think me pretty? Progress!"

"You are handsome, and charming, and persistent," James allowed and watched the other man's smile grow, "but I love another."

Thomas snorted. "A fiancé that has scarce written you these two months."

James pursed his lips. "That's not true-" Thomas tried to say something but James spoke over him. "Thomas, if you loved me, you'd let me talk." He stayed silent and James nodded. "Look, before tonight, we'd only spoken once, and, at least on my end, it wasn't the most pleasant conversation ever."

Thomas nodded, face serious.

James braced himself for the next part of the discussion. "I'm betrothed, I've promised to marry Dolley Payne, and she trusts that I will stay true to her while she's off at the war."

"Okay," Thomas nodded and James sighed.

"I don't want to give her reason to think me untrustworthy. So, for now, if you still insist that you love me, we can be friends, and you can get to know me. This will ensure that if you know me, as Dolley does, you will know for sure that you love me. And if, it turns out, that I love you back, I'll break it off with Dolley."

He nodded.

"Until then, our relationship should be strictly formal." James nodded, resolutely.

Thomas grimaced, as the song ended. They bowed to each other, and James turned. "I should go now."

"Wait," Thomas said, and James turned back. "One more dance?"

~

_ Dear Dolley - _

What more could he write after all that had happened?

~

_ Dear Alex, _

_ I miss you rather deeply. Please visit me soon. Aaron's absence strikes me perhaps as deeply as it strikes you. Visit me, I beg of you. _

_ \- Sally Burr _

~

_ Dear James, _

_ Composing love letters was harder than I first anticipated, but nonetheless, I will try. _

Thomas persisted when they were parted, writing clumsy letters as if he had never flirted before. But in person, there was no mention of his self-proclaimed love.

"Why?" James had once asked him, sitting in the drawing room. Alex had been out seeing Sally, Hercules at work.

"You asked me to be friendly to you, to not speak of love." Thomas replied. "So, instead I write of it."

James couldn't fault him of that.

~

Really, his only problem seemed that he couldn't bring himself to confide any of this in Alex or Hercules.

Thomas only visited when they were out, and he only wrote when Alex was asleep.

So really, it was only a matter of time before someone found out.

"Alex?" James entered his bedroom, setting down his bag. Hercules had insisted on taking him out, saying that Alex could manage by himself.

Alex was sitting on the bed, looking down at a letter. He looked up with wide eyes and James's blood ran cold.

"Alex?" He asked again, softer.

"What is this?" Alex replied, confusion and betrayal in his expression. He turned the letter and his heart seized at the sight of Thomas's signature.

"Alex..." James sat down beside him but Alex scooted away and stood up, pacing on the expensive carpet.

"How could I have noticed nothing? How could this have gone so far? It can't be that you love him - it can't be -" Alex rambled, never meeting James's eyes. The letter crumpled between his fingers.

James stood back up and clutched Alex's wrist, stopping him in his tracks. "Alex stop!"

"But, James, what about Dolley?" Alex demanded. "How can you do this to her? She fights for you, and you dally with another man? How could you?"

James felt blood rush to his cheeks. "How could she?" He replied, scaring Alex with his tone. "She who claimed to love me, yet stays silent these four months away. If she loved me so, she'd stop and tell me she was okay, and yet all I receive is silence."

God, he sounded like Thomas.

"So you are refusing Dolley." It wasn't a question.

James released Alex's arm and the letter drifted to the floor between them.

"I believe so. How can I love her when she ignores me? Thomas does not. And I think that perhaps I am not a fool to love him back." James told him.

"I see." Alex pulled away, to the doorway. A sick feeling settled in James's stomach.

"You will not tell!" He said. Alex turned with a sad expression.

"You were always the sensible one."

Alex slammed the door behind him.

~

"Why?" James asked. Hercules furrowed his eyebrows, and lent against the wall, his arms crossed across his chest.

"You're my priority; I have a duty to keep you safe." He replied gruffly, and James thought of Alex's tear-filled eyes at his shouts.

"You know that I wasn't making a rash decision."

"Weren't you?" James flinched at the tone. "Wasn't that what you were doing, on the back porch, ready to run away with a man you hardly knew?"

"You're wrong!" James jumped to his feet, his expression a mixture of anguish and anger. "I know him; I've known him since the first week we were in Moscow! Which was, hm, four months ago? It wasn't a rash decision! I love him!"

There were fat tears rolling down James's cheeks.

"Well, I can't let you." Hercules murmured.

"Why not?" James spat.

"You're engaged to Dolley, remember?"

"I called it off."

Hercules started, his arms unfolding. "What?"

"I called the engagement off. Dolley agreed that it would be best." James was staring at the floor, unable to meet Hercules's eyes.

"So why didn't Thomas openly ask for your hand?" Hercules demanded.

"I didn't want him to!" He replied, agitated and upset.

"Why the hell not?"

"Why do you care?" James cried.

He sat back on the bed, sobbing into his hands.

Hercules sat beside him hesitantly. Took it as a good thing when James didn't push him away.

"Why do you care?" He asked again, quieter this time. "You're Alex's godfather; I'm none of your concern."

"But Alex is, and he's worried about you."

James drooped. "Did you really think he'd hurt me?"

"No," Hercules replied and James looked up, face wet and disbelieving, "but I don't want to find out."

They were silent for a moment, both thinking, turned away from each other in the candlelight.

"They say we are asleep until we fall in love." Hercules said and James almost jumped from his statements suddenness. "But when we fall in love, we wake up, and we see the world properly for the first time."

James let out a shaky breath. "I am so ready to wake up now."

~

There was such a storm of feelings inside of him. He couldn't control them.

~

And, so, maybe that's why he does it.

~

James didn't know why he'd told Alex. He'd wandered into the room, still angry, but unable to leave without a goodbye to his cousin.

"Alex." He hissed, shaking his shoulder. Alex started and stared at James with wide, bloodshot eyes.

"James? What are you-?"

"I wanted to say goodbye." James interrupted and felt tears filling his eyes. He hadn't really thought about it, but he was so scared.

"Goodbye?" Alex sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Are you running away? I will not let you."

"No, no," James replied, as if soothing Alex. "You see, I didn't want to die with ill will towards you."

Alex's eyes widened with panic and understanding. "James, what have you done?"

"Arsenic," James told him before bursting into sobs.

~

Alex had almost fallen back to sleep, through the commotion of the house. He'd rested his hand on the palm of his right hand, leaning on it, his elbow placed on the arm of his chair.

"Excuse me," said a soft, solemn voice. Alex opened his eyes and stood up in alarm at the sight of Thomas Jefferson. "You are Alexander, are you not?"

Alex nodded, eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?" He asked, suspicion laced through his tone.

"I came to see James."

Alex laughed shortly. "I think you have caused enough trouble for him as it is."

"Please, I will not linger of you wish me to leave, but I heard he was ill." Thomas pleaded.

"He was," Alex allowed. "He is out of danger now - but still weak. You did nothing to help the matter."

Thomas winced visibly at the scathing tone Alex used.

"What exactly are you accusing me of?" He inquired, still looking solemn.

"He poisoned himself." Thomas covered his hand with his mouth. "He drank arsenic and came to say goodbye to me. If he hadn't he would be dead now."

Thomas breathed heavily, almost a sob, and glanced at the door behind Alex. "May I see him? Please?"

"I think if he sees you now it will only worsen his condition." Alex snapped. How dare this man dishonour his cousin and then demand to see him after his attempted suicide?

"Alexander-" Alex scowled at him and Thomas backtracked. "Mr Hamilton, if you'd allow me, I only want to see him before I leave for St Petersburg."

"You're leaving?" Alex's hostility abandoned him for innocent curiosity.

Thomas nodded. "My brother informed me that it would be in my best interest, as I wouldn't be around when the news broke."

Alex licked his lips, thinking. "I suppose if you mean to only say goodbye, I will admit you a small counsel with him."

Thomas looked as though a large weight had been taken off his shoulders.

"My thanks, Mr Hamilton."

~

James looked up when the door opened. Butterfly's filled his stomach when Thomas entered and closed the door behind him.

His look of pure relief was enough to convince James that he really did love him.

"Thomas," he murmured. Thomas stride towards him and caught him up in a hug, holding him close.

James pulled back slightly to look at his face. Thomas cupped his cheek, his expression a mix of relief  and panic. "Why would you do that? I thought I'd lost you when I heard that they'd called doctors to your house. James - oh god -"

James cut him off by pressing his lips to Thomas's. "Oh," Thomas said, pulling away briefly, before kissing him back and holding James close.

"I'm sorry," James murmured. "I'm so sorry. I would've gone with you. I would've. I swear."

"I don't care." Thomas kissed over the corner of James's mouth and up to his cheek. He leaned his forehead against his. "I don't care. We can't go back, so it doesn't matter. It's all in the past."

"I'm so glad you're here." James admitted, looking away. "Did Alex give you grief?"

"He did, but I don't mind." Thomas sighed. "I just wanted to see you, to know that you were okay before I left."

"You're leaving?" James pulled away and they stood parallel. Across from each other. Not touching.

"I have to. When news breaks of the affair I'm to be in St Petersburg. It's better if you never see me again."

"Oh," James felt tears gather in his eyes and he wiped them away furiously. God, he'd cried so much these past few days. He never wanted to again. "I see."

"I'll write you, I swear." Thomas promised, reaching for James's hand.

"And leave me alone with only your letters to comfort me?" He pulled it out of reach and watched with sick relish as Thomas's weak smile fell.

"You never used to mind about my letters."

"You were never too far away."

"So that's it then?" Thomas asked, his voice hitching as if he too would cry. "I leave and you cut me off?"

"It's not like I have a choice. I trusted Dolley to love me and to write me to at least tell me that she was alive, and all I got was silence. How am I to know if you will do the same?" James asked through his tears.

"Because I love you, James! Haven't I proved that by now?"

Thomas dropped to his knees -  _ ever the dramatic, _ James thought - his head bowed. "I would do anything for you."

"But you won't stay."

Thomas looked up. "James..."

But he shook his head, resolute. "I was always the sensible one; you've made me reckless."

"I'm sorry-"

"I never said I didn't like it." James interrupted. "But I keep getting hurt - and I hurt the people I love in the process - and I don't want that. So you're right."

James breathed deeply. "I hope we meet again, one day, when all of this has died down. But for now...we can never see each other again."

Thomas stood back up, lips parted. "I love you." He said, almost as if he'd only just thought of it.

"I know," James replied, licking his lips and wiping his eyes again. "I think you'd better go now."

James turned, looking towards the window. He heard the creak of the floorboards as Thomas walked to the door.

"I'll still write to you." Thomas said.

"I'll still love you." James said. The door creaked open, and then snapped closed again.

In the silence and the knowledge that he was finally alone, James crumpled on the window seat.

"I want to wake up now." He whispered.

**Fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be happy, I swear. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Please leave a comment or a kudos. You can find me on Tumblr @nose-coffee, and yell at me or follow me. (Or both, I'm not complaining).


End file.
